One Hundred Ways to Say Something so Simple
by SporksN'Knives
Summary: Just three words and eight letters, yet a million ways to say them the wrong way. HopexLight - Rating varies.
1. I Do

**I've been having a hell of a time with writer's block. Not with just my fanfiction, but with my original stuff, too. I've decided to attempt a 100-theme challenge to work on between different projects to /hopefully/ alleviate my stuckness. **

**Watch it totally fail. xD**

**Anyway, enjoy~!**

**A/N: These won't be in any particular order. As shown by my starting with the tenth theme. xD**

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10. I Do

For as long as Hope had known Lightning, the idea of said soldier wearing a dress was ridiculous. The miniskirt that served as part of her uniform was one thing, considering that _that _hadn't been negotiable. Deep in the recesses of his mind, Hope occasionally jested that if Lightning were ever to lose her mind and get married, _she _would be the one wearing the suit. His condolences to her husband.

But that didn't change the fact that she was beautiful in the dress she and Serah had agreed for her to wear in the wedding procession. It was a relatively simple number – runched, iridescent powder blue, strapless and formfitting from the chest to the bottom of her torso, where it smoothly flared out, accentuating her curves without appearing suggestive. The skirt fell just below her knees, and under normal circumstances, that would have been fine. But over the years, Hope had become so accustomed to seeing so much of Lightning's legs that _not_ seeing them was more awkward than their exposure. The white sandal-style heels on her feet put him somewhat on-edge. Miniskirt. _LEGS_. Boots. That was the pattern he was accustomed to, and they had grown on him so much that their absence almost disturbed him.

Despite his misgivings, she looked beautiful. The subtle touches of a blush on her cheekbones, a soft brown eyeliner on her top lashline and the outer corner of her bottom, a generous application of mascara to her already-lengthy eyelashes, and a stain of soft, luscious pink on her lips brought Hope's heart to a quick tempo in his chest, even from across the room. Somehow, he managed to focus most of his attention on the happy couple standing at the altar – for the duration of the ceremony itself. During the reception, Lightning was fair game, Hope figured.

However, he soon learned that deciding to talk to her and drop hints pertaining to his feelings and actually _doing _it were two different things entirely. Before he knew it, the reception had begun to die down, and as the sunset dances began, Hope noticed that Lightning was nowhere to be seen.

_Whoever decided that high heels were a good idea ought to be shot. _

Said accursed shimmering, white footwear had grown unbearable during the ceremony, and Lightning was sure that removing her shoes during Serah's reception wouldn't exactly be appropriate. During the entire affair, she'd remained seated politely in her chair at the table designated for the family, which had been occupied by herself, NORA, Sazh, Dajh…and Hope.

As he'd gotten older, they'd grown closer, bit by little bit. Lightning wasn't sure how to handle the flutters in her chest when she realized that she wasn't the surrogate mother or older sister figure she thought she was. When she realized one day that Hope's feelings had progressed into something much more mature, more involved than the crush she'd suspected for a while when he was fourteen.

She'd tried not to notice, but she knew that in order to ignore something, you had to know it was there. She was acutely aware of Hope's every word, every action, what the insinuated meaning behind each one might have been. Soon she'd found herself invested in interpreting his behavior, and had discovered the butterflies that had apparently taken up residence in her stomach.

Still, she continued to play dumb. She was edgy as ever when it came to social exchanges, kept to her no-nonsense mentality, but still ended up with her guard down whenever Hope was around.

She couldn't help herself.

As the reception stretched into evening with no end anywhere in sight just yet, Lightning found her mind wandering as she stared down at the glass of wine sitting untouched on the table in front of her. She looked up once, breaking free of her thoughts to see Snow and Serah having their first dance. Surely she was happy for her sister. For years she'd fought to support her – keep a roof over her head, keep food on the table every night, maintain a sense of security…and now, Serah radiated more happiness in one day than she had in the five years after their mother died.

It was then she realized that her little sister didn't need her anymore.

In the middle of a crowded courtyard, it was too much to take.

Lightning waited until the majority of the guests were caught up in the dances to seize the opportunity and leave. Serah wouldn't notice – she had her sights fixed on Snow for the night.

She'd managed to walk calmly around the courtyard to the hotel exit, but once she was out of sight, her feelings took over and she began walking faster than she'd previously ventured to in heels. She had to get back to the prep rooms before things sank in.

She considered hiding in the bridal suite, but on the off-chance that Serah came looking for her, that would more than likely be the first place she'd look. Where else would she have washed her face and changed her clothes? The dress bags were all in there. She hesitated at the door for a moment, but turned and crossed the foyer to the groom's suite. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, covering her eyes with one hand and heaving a sigh. She rolled her shoulders back as she stood upright, determined not to cry over something as inevitable as Serah's maturity. She stretched and walked to the dressing table to take the dozens of sparkling pins out of her currently curled, lightly hairsprayed tresses, each one she half-heartedly removed having been dotingly applied by her sister's careful hand.

_"Serah, I'm sure my hair looks fine the way it is," Lightning insisted as her sister tugged at the braid Lightning had twisted over one shoulder. Serah chuckled. _

_ "Sis, you have a beautiful dress, beautiful shoes, and a beautiful you. I'm only having one wedding, you know."_

_ "I hope so," Lightning replied in her usual cold attempt at a joke. Serah picked it up and laughed. "And the attention will be on you. You don't have to worry about me," she assured her. "You should focus on letting Lebreau work her magic on you."_

_ Serah shook her head. "Just because you think you'll be in the background doesn't give you an excuse to not look as absolutely gorgeous as you can, Lightning," she replied. "Besides…you could be next." _

_ Lightning laughed as Serah began running Lightning's hair through a curling iron and tucking each curl into specific places in an intricate updo. _

_ "Serah, you don't…" Lightning began, seeing Serah picking bejeweled pins from a crystal dish on the vanity. Serah silenced her. _

_ "I want you to enjoy today, too, Lightning," she murmured, stopping to hug her sister. "Don't pretend that today's going to be a piece of cake for you."_

Tears flooded Lightning's eyes all of a sudden, and she fought to hold them back. She hadn't removed her makeup yet.

She stood up once her hair was freed and walked over to the huge couch on one side of the room. It probably counted as a full-size bed, at the very least. She fell backward into its inviting plush cushions, closing her eyes and covering her face with both hands.

"Of all the places to go, I didn't think the men's dressing room would be your first choice."

Light jumped and peeked between her fingers toward the speaker only to find Hope standing in the doorway. She slowly sat up.

"I couldn't breathe through all the perfume in the other room," she answered quietly. She looked down at the floor, looking back up when the couch sank more, indication of Hope having sat down.

"I couldn't help noticing that you left," he said quietly.

Lightning's natural instinct was to defend. "My feet were killing me."

"Oh really?" Hope asked sarcastically. "I didn't see you stand once in the three hours we were there." There were some things Lightning wished Hope hadn't learned from her. Sarcasm was one of them.

"You try parading around in a pair of these and tell me your feet don't hurt like hell," she snapped. The words were out before she could stop them, and she bit her lip. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine…today's not exactly an easy day for you, is it?"

"You don't even know the half of it."

Hope shifted his weight from one side to the other, tucking his hands beneath his thighs, presumably to keep from fidgeting.

"Then tell me."

Lightning shook her head. "Telling anyone wouldn't change anything."

Hope was silent for a few seconds. "It…might make it not hurt as much," he murmured.

"It doesn't hurt, okay?" Lightning snapped, glaring up at him and doing nothing but confirming the truth in Hope's statement. The words escaped before she could stop them, and just seconds after hearing herself, Lightning bit her lip. "Sorry."

"It's no problem. I wasn't exactly expecting you to be Little Miss Sunshine." He looked up at her, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "Want to talk about it?"

Lightning groaned at herself and returned her hands to her face, falling flat on her back on the couch again. "I thought I was ready for this. I just realized how unprepared I was – am – for this."

"For Serah's wedding?"

"In part…" Hope watched the muscles in her neck tighten and release several times while she gathered her thoughts.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Light," he murmured. "I just don't like seeing you like this."

Lightning sighed. "No…it's alright…"

Several seconds passed in total silence while Lightning collected herself before making several separate attempts to begin. "It's just that…after Dad died…I mean…" She groaned in frustration and ran her fingers through her hair.

"After Dad died," she finally managed to articulate, "Mom kind of…lost it. She didn't exactly go crazy, but she just lost her grip on everything for a while. Reality, her health…it got to the point that by the time I was ten, I was the one cleaning house, feeding everyone, and keeping Serah happy because she would get so physically weak from her sicknesses that she was incapable of taking care of us…"

Lightning had downgraded to one hand covering her eyes, so Hope was able to watch the emotion – or currently, lack thereof, on her face as she spoke. She showed no sign of any feeling on her face, but her voice had already begun to betray her.

"I wouldn't have taken matters into my own hands if it was just me…but I knew that if anyone found out about Mom not taking care of us, Serah and I would have been put in the community house. This wasn't the Sanctum-operated orphanage, either. Orphans are cared for by the fal'cie, but foundlings are handled by Bodhum's "social services." I could have cared less about what happened to me, but Serah wouldn't have been able to survive there. I knew kids from the community house, and they were even more poorly cared for than they might have been away from there. They'd all gotten mean, too. I wasn't about to let Serah get thrown into all of that. She couldn't have handled it…therefore I couldn't have handled it."

_So she cares way more than she lets on, _Hope thought.

"The…the entire time I practically raised her…I tried not to listen to the voice nagging at me from the back of my head, warning me to not make myself her mother. 'She's not gonna need you someday. You're not ready for that.' I ignored it for the longest time…kept telling myself 'that's stupid. Serah's my sister; she'll always need me for something.'" Lightning paused for several seconds, and Hope watched her lips press together in much a way that made him wonder if it hurt her at all.

"That's…what's why I hated Snow so much…he was perfect for her, and I knew it…he could give her everything I couldn't along with everything I _could." _Hope noticed the faint trembling of her lower lip and gently grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her face. Sure enough, her eyes were watery, but hadn't released tears yet.

"Don't worry," Hope told her. "Serah isn't perfect. Someday she will have had it with Snow and will come to you for comfort. Snow can't love her like a sister. Only you can do that."

Hope had been expecting her to push him away and defend herself, but instead, was surprised with silence. As he expected, however, she wouldn't make eye contact.

"Don't let yourself think that Serah just threw you away," Hope murmured. "She probably would have felt the same way if you had gotten married."

Again, she didn't fight him. If she'd said anything to him, Hope wouldn't have worried in the least. A blow from Lightning was a solid assurance that she really _was_ alright, no matter what someone may have thought. Her lack of response, however, made Hope more uneasy than he'd been since the day they had 500 PSICOM assault rifles trained on their foreheads. In one of his crippling rushes of worry, Hope grabbed her other hand, pulled her up, and held her tight.

"For being ex-Sanctum military, you're losing your touch pretty fast," he whispered into her hair, hoping to stir her up and having no success. His eyes widened when her arms slowly wrapped around him.

"Shut up," she whispered back. It wasn't much, but it was a retort. Definitely not her best, but it comforted him a bit.

"Look," he began, his voice failing. He felt a blush painting itself across his cheeks and fought to stifle it. "I know…I know this probably isn't the right thing to say to you right now, but…my promise still stands," he said, changing his words at the last minute. What he'd intended to say went something along the lines of "I'll take care of you" or "I'll be here for you," but both of those statements sounded even less appropriate. "I'm gonna keep watching out for you, Light."

"Hope, just say it."

"W-What?"

"…do you love me?"

Silence. Earsplitting, heart-stopping silence.

"No."

Lightning began pushing herself away from him, only to be held fast.

"Wait! I wasn't done!" Hope cried, looking down at her. "To say I love you would be an understatement, Light."

There were few things that surprised Lightning Farron enough to bring her eyes to the size of dinner plates, let alone make her gape like a fish. Hope's choice in words was something to be penned into the short list.

After a second or two, Lightning composed herself, her eyes faintly sparkling behind all the unease and sorrow.

"So tell me – do you or don't you?"

"…I do."


	2. I'm In

**I have others in-progress, but they're taking so f*cking long to write...so this is a continuation of Theme 10. I guess this means I'm gonna have to start subcategorizing universes soon. xD Ohh God, looking forward to that. **

**Anyway, Enjoy~**

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57. I'm In

"Great…I'm twenty-four and I'm already suffering from empty nest syndrome."

After her father's death, Lightning Farron had begun wondering why her parents had built their house as large as they had. Her beachfront home could have easily housed seven people and still left plenty of elbow room for each. She hadn't really noticed just how roomy it was until her father was gone - which resulted in less time outside - and when her mother died, she was even more acutely aware.

After Cocoon's fall, Lightning had begun wondering why she'd opted to build a near replica of her home on Cocoon. Granted it was on a smaller scale, but it was still far larger than she'd anticipated. Even with Hope and Serah living with her for a few years, it was still a little too roomy for her. It was worse when Hope went off to find an apartment closer to his university, and now, with Serah gone, her home did nothing but amplify how really alone she was. Three months had passed since her sister had moved out, and Lightning still caught herself hauling herself out of bed in the morning and making breakfast for two - sometimes three. Other days she would have breakfast on the table and get as far as walking into Serah's empty room before she remembered.

Amodar had made it clear to Lightning that she wasn't going to be using her career as an escape from her problems. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right when he told her that Serah had embraced her future and moved on, and in turn, so should Lightning. Though she'd acknowledged his concerns, he still restricted her work schedule to eight-hour shifts, four days a week, undoubtedly knowing that she would more than likely work overtime to bypass his orders.

Thus, Lightning was left with around four days of free time on her hands every week, counting time she spent awake outside of work the days she was on. While she watched tv, worked out, or whatever she could think of to do to pass the time, she often wondered if Amodar was trying to kill her this way. Honestly, what superior would force more time off after something like this? It was cruel and unusual punishment, Lightning thought.

Her thoughts coursed through the same dull trail hundreds of times every day, and she spent hours telling herself that work would help alleviate some of the pain left over from Serah's moving out. Drilling the principle into her own head wouldn't do anything to change her situation and she knew it, but as long as she was thinking, she wasn't aware of Serah's absence.

Whenever she wasn't mentally cursing Amodar, Lightning took to cleaning. She'd managed to practically clean the house to the point of being able to build computer chips in her living room, leaving only Serah's room untouched. She'd considered cleaning it several times, only to open the door and be smothered by the overwhelming scent of years' worth of various perfumes and lotions, the aromas of which she knew were more than likely hopelessly engrained in the carpet. The door would be closed, the vacuum stuffed back into the closet, and Lightning would spend the rest of the day cursing Amodar for not letting her work.

Though Hope had admitted that he was in love with her, their relationship hadn't really changed. They talked more often and spent more time together, but Lightning wasn't sure if it was because they'd gotten 'together', as Serah might have said, or because Hope wanted to make sure she had someone to talk to while she adjusted to life alone. He hadn't been outspoken about his feelings for her, but they both knew they were still very much present. Lightning had yet to discern the nature of her feelings when it came to Hope, but the butterflies still lingering in her chest had tried time and again to push her to a decision point, but Lightning knew who she was – of all the things she knew never to fall prey to, her feelings were the most important. She had always been wary of her own emotions, which had led to her selfless care for Serah after their parents' deaths, and eventually Hope's after Cocoon's fall.

Lightning had just finished vacuuming up the potting soil she'd accidentally spilled while moving one of her plants when the doorbell rang. She looked across the living room to the front door, tugging her hair into a tighter ponytail. She groaned, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Hope, you come over almost every Saturday," she huffed, watching his smile through the screen door. "I think you're licensed to walk through my front door and _then_ say you're here."

Even through the tightly-weaved strips of metal making up Lightning's screen door, Hope's blush was obvious.

"Well, you know, you have a crazy private life, Light. I wouldn't want to walk in at the wrong time," he replied, walking inside.

Lightning gave a derisive snort. "Oh, yes, because every night I have the wildest time washing the dishes and sweeping my kitchen floor."

"Dishes for one person can get pretty wild."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say the second the words passed his lips, which were quickly trapped between his teeth. "Sorry…that…I didn't…"

"Don't worry about it," Lightning sighed, walking into the kitchen. "You want a drink?"

"Sure," Hope replied, his hands tightening around the bouquet of flowers behind his back. "Do I get the alcohol a few years too early?"

"Not on your life, kid," Lightning said over her shoulder, adjusting the straps of her tank top. She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice after setting two glasses on the countertop. "But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna have some," she murmured, returning to the fridge and pulling a bottle of clear liquor from its depths. Hope leaned on the half-wall separating the breakfast area from the living room, pulling the flowers out from behind his back, waiting for her to turn. He'd chosen to get flowers for her on a whim, and he was now reconsidering the possibility of divine intervention. Obviously, today wasn't a good day.

Lightning poured Hope's drink and mixed her own, turning to hand him the glass. Pink immediately flashed across her face when she saw the flowers. Hope blushed himself, smiling shyly at her.

"I figured you might appreciate a little something," he said, his jade eyes sparkling with the innocence of his early teens. "Judging by that drink, it was a good idea."

"Hope," she chuckled, setting his drink on the breakfast bar and turning to pull a vase out of her cupboards.

"Hey, I wanted to. Is that better?"

She didn't answer, but her blush darkened, bringing a satisfying smile to his face. He helped her remove the cellophane from the bouquet and arrange the flowers in the vase before picking up his glass of orange juice. His eyes widened when he felt tiny bubbles in his drink. "Light, did you – "

"It's only soda water," she replied, taking a swallow of hers. "Don't get so excited."

"Just to throw me off, right?"

"Mhmm."

Hope watched as Lightning proceeded to down her drink in just a few gulps, unsure if he should stay and make sure she didn't try to cook or anything once the alcohol kicked in or if he should just leave in the event that she couldn't hold her liquor. He cleared his throat as she started mixing another drink, inwardly wondering what kind of drunk she was.

"So tell me," he murmured awkwardly, looking down at the tile floor. "How is living in a house this big by yourself?" It sounded more insensitive than he'd intended, but Lightning seemed not to notice.

"Echoey," she replied, voice void of emotion. "I'm actually…" she swallowed and looked out the window overlooking the backyard and stretch of beach on her property. "I'm thinking about moving."

Hope's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

Lightning sighed and looked around. "I'm on work restrictions because my superiors think I'm going to be using it to avoid coming to terms with everything. I have about four days of time off every week, and I end up spending most of that time here. I can't really get over anything if I'm steeping in everything here."

"You'd really just leave everything behind, just like that?"

Lightning bristled. "It's not like I want to!" She glared at Hope for a few seconds before forcing herself to calm down. "I can't move on if I end up thinking about how empty the house is."

Several minutes passed in silence. Lightning proceeded to tip her second drink to the ceiling while Hope stared at his shoes and gnawed his lip.

"Hey," he asked after a second or two. "Would you still want to move…even if someone was here to live with you?"

Lightning was quiet, but Hope could feel her eyes on him.

"I guess it depends on who it was," she murmured.

Hope turned his eyes up to meet hers. "What if…what if it was…" he swallowed. "What if it was me?"

"You've lived with me before," Lightning replied. Hope sighed. He had to remind himself that Lightning was still just as human as he was, and therefore had her moments of grating oblivion.

"No…I mean, what if I moved in with you? Permanently?"

Hope wondered if Lightning's blush could ever hope to match the intensity of his. Every second Lightning stared at him in silence, he felt his cheeks flushing redder and redder, and began wondering if proposing he move back in – as a man, not an orphan – was a good idea.

Lightning turned her eyes downward as she processed his words, a deep scarlet blush staining her cheeks.

"I…I guess I might stay, then…seeing as it was bearable with just Serah and I…" she whispered, her eyes still downcast. Hope felt his heart skip.

"So would you let me?"

Lightning looked up. "When would you move in?"

"When would you _want _me to move in?"

"…as soon as possible."

Hope burst forth and threw his arms around Lightning, coercing a complaint from her. It was promptly ignored, and she didn't fight him. Hope hid his smile in her hair and laughed.

"Alright then. I'm in."


	3. Fish

**I auditioned for American Idol on Saturday. I didn't think I'd make it(and I didn't), but it was still a little depressing to get told your voice is too weak, so I came home and consoled myself with HopexLightning and ice cream. XD Thus, this was born. **

**This is a different universe. :3**

**Enjoy~!**

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34. Fish

In the two years she'd spent living on Gran Pulse, Lightning had learned a few things that she never would have learned had she not been forced to relocate. For instance, she learned that her life wasn't a gift anymore – it was a privilege she was tasked with protecting. She learned that in order to preserve her own life, she had to protect others around her. Gran Pulse didn't operate on the 'every man for himself' principle that Cocoon had.

On days like the present, Lightning reflected on her new life and new lessons. She perched on a rock overlooking a freshwater lake with glassy blue water. To her right lay a pure white stretch of beach while a swamp lurked to her left. The sun warmed her now-lightly tanned skin while she stared across the still water, thought consuming her. Idle time had become rare, and she'd developed an ability to appreciate it.

As water splashed into her face, a string of obscenities and hysterical laughter invaded her ears. Lightning released a surprised "Oh!" and wiped the water from her eyes before looking over at Fang, Vanille, and Hope, who had been attempting fishing for the last several hours.

"Looks like some fish down there wants to play with you," Fang jeered between laughs. Vanille clutched her stomach in a fit of laughter on the bank, and even Lightning had to control rising laughter when she saw Hope scrambling for land, soaked to the bone and his fishing pole floating out in deeper water. The sixteen-year-old's face was flushed red as a cherry and his platinum hair formed a water-soaked curtain over his eyes while his black tee clung to his body, showing how much his body as matured during his two years on Gran Pulse – or how much it hadn't, as Snow liked to say. Hope insisted he would grow even taller and he'd develop more muscle someday, but his defensiveness did nothing but bring on more taunting from Snow.

"Shut up," he grumbled, changing direction and swimming to Lightning's rock in favor of quieter company. Fang laughed aloud as he hauled himself up and sat beside her, wringing the water out of his hair. Lightning looked away as Hope pulled his shirt off and started twisting the water out of it, fighting a blush.

"I didn't know you had half those words in your vocabulary," she chuckled as he slipped his shirt back on. Hope blushed as his lips lifted in a shy half-smile.

"NORA is full of colorful mouths," he answered.

"They'll be even more colorful if you don't catch some fish," Lightning replied, playfully pushing him. "Get back in there!"

Hope frowned. "But the fishing pole's clear out there!" he complained, pointing out across the water. Sure enough, about two-hundred feet into the lake, Hope's lightweight fishing pole bobbed atop the glassy water.

"You can swim," Lightning said. Hope shyly looked down.

"Not very well," he murmured. Lightning rolled her eyes, but didn't prod him any further.

"I guess I'll go find some fruit or something…Lebreau should be able to work something out," he murmured after a few minutes. Lightning looked over at him.

"I'm sure you could still catch a couple of fish," she replied.

"How? I don't have anything I can use."

"You've got two hands. I'm pretty sure Fang knows how to fish with her bare hands, so she could probably show you." Upon looking up to find the tempestuous Pulsian, Lightning found that neither Fang nor Vanille were anywhere to be seen.

"…or not," she amended. Hope's shoulders sagged forward with a sigh before he looked around.

"Fruit it is then."

"Wait," Lightning said, grabbing his wrist when he stood up. She gnawed her lip for a moment, comtemplating whether or not she was actually going to act on what she had in mind.

"What is it?"

"…my father and I used to go camping all the time when I was a kid," she murmured. "When I was seven, he taught me how to catch a fish with my bare hands."

Hope was silent for a moment. "Oh. Cool."

Lightning snorted and pushed him off of the rock and into the water. Hope surfaced and clung to a chunk to driftwood, sputtering water before glaring up at Lightning. "What the hell, Light?!"

"Don't tell Snow I showed you," she called down to him. One eyebrow skewed in confusion. "What are you – oh."

Hope was cut off by the sight of Lightning removing her overcoat, gloves, and boots. His cheeks reddened when she unzipped her blouse to roll the collar down and dipped his head under the water on the other side of his piece of driftwood in hopes of lessening the redness.

He looked back up, wiping the hair out of his face when a splash sounded behind him. Lightning was nowhere to be seen atop the rock, and instead, Hope found her in the water behind him, tucking her wet hair behind her ears.

"Follow me," she ordered, propelling herself to small island further out into the lake. Still utilizing his driftwood, Hope followed her out. She hauled herself onto its bank and crossed to a crescent-shaped inlet, where Hope saw dozens of fish idling in the shallows.

"You have to know where they feed," Lightning started, lowering herself to her stomach on the bank. "Places with lots of shade and vegetation like this are a good place to check."

Hope lay down beside her. "I think I can remember that much. What's next?"

Lightning dipped her hand into the water. "Put one hand in the water and start wiggling your fingers. It moves the water and makes them think it's another fish over here." Hope watched as she demonstrated, his jaw dropping when a fish began slowly moving toward her hand.

"When it's close enough, reach out and gently stroke its underside," he whispered as she touched it. The creature sidled into her hand, and Lightning gripped it just hard enough to pull it out of the water. She dropped it on the grass and wiped her hand on her skirt. "That's all there is to it."

Hope watched the fish squirm in the wet grass for a few seconds before nodding. "Seems easy enough."

"You try it then."

Hope did his best to replicate her actions. He submerged his hand in the water and wiggled his fingers, holding his breath and waiting for a curious fish to swim his way.

"You'll catch more fish if you breathe, Hope," Lightning grumbled, though her smile screamed her amusement. Hope took a deep breath and resumed what he was now calling his "fishy seduction."

He broke out in a grin when he noticed one coming his way within a few minutes. "A little further," he whispered. He stroked its scales when it came close enough, shuddering at its slimy texture. "You're mine," he snickered as he gripped the fish and pulled it out of the water. He gave a victorious cry when he'd almost gotten it to the bank, gasping when he felt its tail whipping against his wrist and gaining freedom with every movement.

"No! Wait!" he cried, leaning over the water and extending his other hand to grab it again. His knees dug into the soggy earth, allowing him to keep his balance for a few extra seconds. The fall was inevitable, however, and when Hope had regained control of his catch, he realized he couldn't regain his balance. He yelped as he fell face first into the water. He knew he'd lost his fish for good when its tail slapped him in the face during its escape.

Coughing and wiping mud out of his face, Hope sat up, cracking one eye open when he heard unfamiliar laughter coming from the bank. Lightning still lay on the bank, but she'd hidden her face in folded arms, shoulders trembling with unsuccessfully muffled laughs. She looked up at him before hiding her face again, her laughter intensifying.

"Pretty funny, huh?" Hope snickered, grabbing her arm. "Lets see what you think of it!"

Lightning gasped as Hope pulled her in, immediately surfacing and spitting the water in her mouth back into his face. When Hope opened his eyes again, he waited for the deathblow, only to find a still-smiling Lightning in front of him.

"It's on now, Estheim," she muttered, grinning and throwing a wad of seaweed in his face and swimming out into the deeper water. Hope chuckled. "You asked for it. Especially because I lied about not being able to swim," he added after she was out of earshot. He ducked under the water and propelled himself out toward her.

Unable to hear the sounds of Hope swimming behind her, Lightning stopped and looked around for him. He wasn't in the inlet, and he wasn't anywhere around her. A surge of panic flooded her as the thought that maybe he really couldn't swim flashed through her mind, then again when something wrapped around her legs and pulled her underwater. She opened her eyes to see what had grabbed her, only to find herself staring into Hope's face. She pushed away from him and swam to the surface again, taking a breath and waiting for him to come up for a breath before going back under. She gently picked a piece of seaweed from his bandanna and touched his leg with it, swimming circles around him. When he saw her, she pulled him down and went up for a breath again.

The next hour passed in a flash as each tormented the other in the water before Lightning swam back to shore, hauling herself up onto the bank to catch her breath. Hope followed her and lay down next to her, smiling.

"That was fun," he murmured, closing his eyes and leaving the sun to dry him. Lightning let out a soft "mmm."

"I haven't played like that since my dad died," she whispered, a smile threatening to show on her face.

With the sun warming their soaked bodies, it was easy to fall prey to the lethargy it induced. Hope refused to let it lull him into nothingness, however, and sat up, stretching.

"We ought to get back," he said, looking over at Lightning. He lingered a moment on her half-asleep face, watching as her eyelids fluttered in an attempt to stay awake without having to sit up.

"Light?"

"What?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Hmm…"

Desperate measures became necessary as the sun began to sink closer and closer to the horizon, as Lightning had fallen asleep and had adopted Hope's sleeping habits somewhere along the line. She groaned when he budged her, swatted his hands away, but never turned over. In spite of his aggravation, Hope couldn't help thinking about how cute his behavior was in her. It didn't change the fact that they had to leave, however.

"Don't kill me, Light," he said aloud. "But you leave me no choice."

He leaned down to her, cheeks becoming stained deeper and deeper red the closer her got, and shyly pressed his lips to Lightning's, unable to focus on the kiss through the knowledge of the punishment that would come after she'd woken up.

Hope's heart leapt in his chest when Lightning finally woke, and he squeezed his eyes shut before pulling away. He opened them again when no blow came, and instead something draped across his neck and pushed him down – pulled him down, actually, and found that Lightning had wrapped her arms around him and had brought him down for another kiss.

Hope couldn't help himself. He'd been helplessly in love with Lightning since he was fourteen and had often daydreamed about moments like this, never once thinking they would actually come true. In his shock, he didn't return her kiss for a few seconds while his brain caught up to the moment, his heart thumping as he finally collected the presence of mind to kiss her back, his hand traveling her hair and sifting through it. His heart raced as he took charge, taking Snow's unwarranted advice for once in his life and gently running his tongue along Lightning's lower lip, heat rushing his face when she opened her mouth for him. Summoning everything Snow had ever told him about how to win a woman over with a kiss, Hope shyly explored her mouth with his tongue, blushing even redder when a small sound escaped Lightning – undoubtedly a moan.

He pulled up for air, red as a tomato and unable to help the grin on his face. Even Lightning sported a smile and a blush of her own, though both had more of an air of maturity than Hope's.

"We should go fishing more often," Hope snickered.

* * *

**I think I left this one in an awkward place. I dunno. xD I've tried fishing like this before, and I'll never do it again. Fish feel gross. XD**


	4. Black and White

**Something angsty this time, inspired by a beautiful piece by keichama over on deviantART. keichama . deviantart art/HopeLight-Liberate-me-320524981 (no spaces). **

**Enjoy~!**

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65. Black and White

Hope Estheim believed his mother to be beautiful, with her innocent, childlike face, youthful silver hair, and luminescent jade eyes. She herself behaved like an angel, rarely losing her temper and seldom raising her voice, but in the frequent absences of his father, became a disciplinarian Hope was proud to say he'd been raised by.

Though not attracted to her, Hope also thought that Vanille was beautiful, as well. She may have been more than mildly annoying in her optimism, but she managed to keep a tiny flame of hope burning in each of her companions. Her smiled were always genuine, the sparkles in her eyes always from hoping for the best, and her tears of pure empathy. Anyone with her brand of sincerity was to be appreciated.

Even Fang, as blatantly caustic and sardonic as she was, had her appeal in body and nature. She and Hope may not have had the friendly pseudo-sibling relationship he and Vanille shared, but Hope appreciated the occasional enjoyable – though sarcasm-saturated – exchanges he had with her. Knowing that he wasn't the only natural pessimist in their entourage was comforting, and to be honest, Hope didn't mind having to travel with Fang every day. He never would have said it out loud, lest she choose to remind him of her frightening strength, but Fang wasn't hard on the eyes.

As Hope lay in silent darkness, his clothes, face, and all exposed skin smudged with dirt and either smeared or splattered with blood, the beauty that his mother, Fang, and Vanille possessed in his eyes paled in comparison to Lightning Farron.

She may have been drop-dead gorgeous, but she wasn't exactly friendly. She was about as cuddly as a roll of barbed wire. She'd nearly left Hope behind on the basis that he was virtually defenseless. She was distant, cold, and was so disciplined that she couldn't bring herself to lighten up in her current circumstances, even with the threat of accelerating her devolution to cie'th hanging over her head. When facing her qualities head-on, Lightning seemed like scum.

In just two short weeks, Hope had found himself in the presence of Lightning's soft side. She revealed herself first to be civil, then even later, she was endearing. She was extremely influential, and her discipline showed itself to be a driving force, a self-sufficient source to keep her going. During their flight through the wilderness, Hope had watched her spirit multiply in the absence of his own, and he soon found it to be infectious. Lightning wasn't as cold or distant as he'd imagined she was; a fact proven by the concern she showed over his plans for revenge, and again in Palumpolum through her initial choice to sacrifice herself for him, and yet again in her promise to protect him.

Oh. The hug may have been a sign, too.

The smiles…the encouragements…the pushes…and harsh words…no matter the gesture, Hope found that each one contributed to Lightning's breathtaking allure, which he had noticed becoming greater and greater every day he rushed into battle with her. The hug did him in, and from then on, he knew he was a goner. Every day, he was reminded of his feelings, and cursed the disparity of their ages. He soon began wondering if ages really mattered as much as his world insisted it did.

However, as death lingered near them, both Hope and Lightning knew that age was of the least of their concerns. The blood seeping from their wounds covered their differences, brought a fear of the unknown into their hearts that reduced one and built up the other until the ground they bled out on was equal. In their final moments, inequalities were shared, shades of grey became black and white, feelings expressed through gestures as words were beyond the reaches of their lungs.

Lightning's fingers gently – or weakly – caressed Hope's cheek, her glacial blue eyes never leaving his, brilliant jade like his mother's and shimmering with tears. Tears had yet to escape her, but that wasn't to say that Lightning's eyes were dry. Her seemingly endless strength only went to such lengths, and though having slumbered on death's doorstep without shedding a tear before, seeing the young man she'd tasked herself with protecting succumbing to the crippling fear that accompanied only death placed several cracks in her resolve. In the time she'd spent with him, Hope had become much more than someone to protect – he'd become the figure of a brother, then a best friend, and then, she guiltily admitted, the only member of the opposite gender she'd ever _loved_. His childhood had abruptly ended on the purge train, and in their time, his maturity had multiplied tenfold, providing for him the mentality of a man her age.

Age didn't matter anymore, and she knew it.

A tear fell from Hope's eyes and cut through the dirt and blood obscuring the skin on his face, and Lightning gently wiped it away, trying to give him as much of an encouraging smile as she could.

_Don't be afraid,_ she thought. _You're not making this easier on either of us._

"L-Light," Hope rasped, reaching up and cupping Lightning's cheek. His breath was labored and pained Lightning to listen to. If she'd had the breath and the strength to tell him to shut up, she would have, but the fear and desperation in Hope's eyes would have silenced her even if she'd been able to speak.

"Don't tell me to give it up," he whispered, choosing his words carefully. "since we both know what's coming…" through the dirt and grime, Hope still blushed, sending a wave of warmth through Lightning's chest.

"C-close your eyes," Hope said, biting his lip. She hesitated, but eventually closed her eyes as she was told. Several seconds passed and nothing happened – but just before she opened her eyes again, she felt light pressure on her lips. When she opened her eyes, she drew in a slow, painfully rattling breath as she realized that Hope had kissed her. He didn't linger, and pulled away almost as soon as he'd leaned in, resting his head on her shoulder.

"I love you, Light," he whispered, closing his eyes. The small action pushed more tears from his eyes and sent them falling onto Lightning's skin. She managed a small, though genuine smile as she managed to wrap a bloodied arm around him, reciprocating his words even though her voice refused to serve her.

As Hope snuggled into her side to wait for their eternal sleep to pull them under, both l'Cie were overwhelmed by a peace they couldn't begin to explain. For two young souls about to fall into death's trap-like jaws without having lived most of the experiences life had to offer, the calm that washed over them was awe-striking. They had nothing to lose. Nothing to gain. Death was suddenly no more frightening than plunging into darkness for a night's sleep, and their focus was no longer an issue.

Black and white. Love and hate. Life and death. Hope and Lightning.

Without one, the other cannot exist.


	5. Peace at Last

**Ahh, finally. An update. **

**This was heavily inspired by the acoustic version of"She is Love" by Parachute. **

**I'm actually not sure what I think of this one. I think I sense a rewrite somewhere in the future. XD Teach me to write half-awake. **

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100. Peace at Last

Not in a million years would Hope have expected his dreams to actually come true. As a l'Cie, he knew better than to act on his impulses. As a minor, he knew it would be wrong of him anyway.

Three years passed after Cocoon came to rest in Fang and Vanille's crystal sacrifice. He was freed from the bondage asserted by the brand on his wrist. And all it took to get the one other thing he wanted was a few words.

Hope told Lightning how he felt about her when he was seventeen.

He didn't expect her to share his affections.

But he had no complaints.

The innocence in their relationship had only recently begun to give way to passion. Hope had begun spending his weekends with Lightning, often spending the nights at her house. She'd shown him a more timid side of herself – a side that resembled Serah to an extent. The crimson that had splashed across her cheeks when she pulled him off the couch and up to her bedroom wasn't something Hope could account to the sweltering New Bodhum heat.

Every night they lay in the darkness of Lightning's bedroom, Hope couldn't help the overwhelming joy that washed over him. To think that the woman who had once been the one person he feared the most was now the only person he could ever see himself loving was still a novel idea. His heart skipped beats whenever he thought about it. Just think – Lightning Farron was his _girlfriend._ No, she was more than a girlfriend. 'Girlfriend' didn't seem to do his former mentor justice. There was no backing out of their relationship nor any desire to do so. There was commitment even in the absence of legality. Hope doubted that even Snow and Serah, as clearly dedicated as they were, could have shared the kind of relationship that he did with Lightning. Somewhere out there, Hope knew there was a word to describe them. If not, he mused, feelings would suffice.

_Lightning. _It flashes bright and fades away. Destroys in its inability to protect. Lightning, just like her namesake, brightened Hope's world, but he knew her light would never fade. She'd protected much more than she would give herself credit for. Anymore, Hope wondered if she ever really fit into her adopted name the way she said she did. She continued to protect. Her influence – her light – refused to die. But then Hope remembered – lightning kindled fires. Slow, tame blazes that could quickly grow into raging wildland infernos. Lightning had kindled the fire in his heart when he was only fourteen, and without knowing it, she'd fed and nurtured it over the years until it spilled over, consuming both of them. The fire they shared was what led them to Lightning's bedroom several weeks before Hope turned eighteen – with more than heated kisses and pure cuddling in mind.

It wasn't often Hope got to see Lightning sleep. He had a tendency to fall asleep before she did – the result of her discovery of a bundle of nerves behind his ears that sent him straight to sleep. Tonight, however, was an exception.

Hope's modesty had a tendency to get the best of him. In spite of his knowledge of Lightning's current living conditions – completely alone in her beachfront house – he couldn't help the shyness that overcame him when he woke up naked beside an equally naked Lightning. He smiled when he saw that he'd finally woken up before she had – only to look at the glowing display of the clock on her nightstand to see that three am had yet to roll around. Hope pulled on his discarded boxers and turned back to look at Lightning, who slumbered peacefully with her back to him, the blankets pulled up to her shoulders as she curled around herself. Hope nearly succumbed to the urge to brush the now-wild, silken pink strands of hair away from her face to kiss her cheek, but when he got a glimpse of her face under the tangled mess crowning her head, he thought better of it. Her cheeks were still flushed pink, and he noticed with his own tinted cheeks that one of her hands ran over every mark he'd left on her neck and shoulders. The bites peppering her body mirrored his own, and Hope touched the ones that he remembered had brought him the most pleasure, shivers coursing through him.

Content to let her sleep – for now – Hope stood and walked to the dresser, quietly pulling a drawer open and retrieving a pair of pajama pants from its confines. He slid them on over his boxers before running his hands through his hair and making his way down to the kitchen. He had only recently learned that it was alright for him to forgo a shirt at least in Lightning's house – especially now that he had some muscle to show off. That would teach Snow to tease him about how scrawny he was.

While downing a glass of water, Hope became aware of the aches plaguing him. He tried not to dwell on what action may have led to which ache. He _DID_ console himself by tying Lightning's powerful legs to the sharp pains on the outside of each hip. The ache inside he could guess too, but in his residual naiveté, he refused to think about it.

One thing crossed his mind and lingered.

_If _I _hurt this much, Lightning's probably going to hate me when she wakes up._

Goosebumps rose on his arms at the thought. Maybe his inexperience wasn't such a bad thing, after all. He had been terrified of hurting her, even when she demanded he move harder, faster. He'd been convinced he was hurting her, but grew more afraid of facing her wrath if he didn't satisfy her.

Maybe he should be more afraid of her hating him for his incompetence.

Hope began making his way back up to the bedroom, dread building in his stomach. What if she really did end up hating him for something?

His worries melted when he opened the door and saw that she'd invaded the pocket of warmth he'd left behind. One arm hung off the edge of the bed while her head rested on the other, her pale skin taking on an ethereal glow in the moonlight filtering through the bedroom window.

Hope slunk to her bedside, sinking to his knees and resting his elbows on the bed. For a seasoned soldier and former l'Cie, the innocence she radiated made his heart race. To think that such an amazing woman was his sent the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy.

If all he had left was Lightning, Hope couldn't have been able to complain. She was love, and she was all he needed.

"I love you, Light," he whispered, lacing her fingers between his as he rested his head on his arm, still content to watch her sleep. Warmth filled his chest when she squeezed his hand, her long black lashes parting to reveal her sparkling eyes, glacial blue and sleepy. A smile turned up half of her mouth as she drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

"I love you, too."


	6. Make Me Happy

**I couldn't resist writing some Married!LightxHope. I realize that Lightning is more than a little OOC here, but hey...considering the circumstances of the story...she could have changed a little bit. Whatever. Just read it. XD**

**This is the result of more half-asleep writing. I tried to go over it and fix any mistakes, but I have a tendency to miss the big ones. xD**

**I hope you like it~ **

**THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! I wish I had time these to reply to all of you...someday. Someday I'll actually get it done. :3**

* * *

Enlightenment had never come on like a slap in the face before Hope Estheim stumbled through the front door of his home one evening. He dropped his briefcase on the tile and fell against the door, the wood cooled by the frigid night air. He tugged at the silken torture device knotted around his neck, eyes closed and a sigh slipping from his lungs.

"You look like the goddess nailed you with a bolt of divine lightning, Hope. Bad day?"

A smile broke out on Hope's face. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and looped his arms around the waist he knew would be there and kissed the lips that lay a few inches below his own.

"Indeed she did," he murmured, pulling away. "She hit me with you a long time ago. Knocked me flat on my ass, and I got right back up to fall for you all over again."

Hope opened his eyes when his wife playfully punched him, her aquamarine eyes sparkling while a faint blush dusted her cheeks.

"She didn't _hit _ you with me," Lightning muttered. Hope smiled and kissed her nose.

"Sure she did. I'm still shocked every morning when I wake up and realize that the rest of my life wasn't a dream."

Lightning pulled him down by his tie, silencing him with a kiss.

"Alright, Romeo." Her face grew a bit more serious. "Now really, what dawned on you just now?"

Hope sighed, pulling her to his chest. Their six years of marriage had rekindled Lightning's formerly dead desire for physical contact – with Hope, anyway – and he had decided to seize every opportunity he had to hold her.

"I just understood and forgave my dad for never being around," he murmured, running a hand through the short upper layers of her hair. "If working in global consolidation is this bad, I don't _even _ want to know what the workload is like for a Sanctum politician."

"…if you're worried about not being home enough – "

" – No! No, I'm just worried that…that maybe my job is taking too much out of me and my life here."

Lightning yanked on his tie, freeing him from its silken clutches before holding it up. "Obviously it isn't. If it was, you might not have proof hanging around your neck."

Smiley faces, misshapen hearts, clumsy stars, and swirling 'I –heart- you's danced in various colors of magic marker around one of the most heart-warming statements Hope believed to exist in the English language.

_# I DAD_

Hope felt his heart soar at the thought of the source of ingenuity behind the artwork on his tie. Before he could speak, Lightning stepped to the side, smiling.

"There's a surprise from us in the bedroom. Dinner's almost ready, so make it fast."

Pressing a quick kiss to Lightning's lips, Hope darted across the living room, up the stairs, and down the hall to his and Lightning's bedroom. He slowly opened the door and peered into the darkness, the light from the hallway illuminating the floor leading to the closet and not much else. He opened the door a little more to reach in and turn the light on, still seeing nothing. He shrugged and walked in, walking to the bed and falling back onto it, heaving a tired sigh.

No sooner had his back hit the bed than two small shadows descended on him.

"GOTCHA, DAD!"

"Nuh-uh, I got Daddy!"

"I'm older. I got him first."

"But…"

"Whoa, whoa, hey," Hope chuckled, gently silencing them both. "No fighting over Dad."

"But we've been waiting for you to get home _aaaallll day_!" the older one groaned, green eyes flashing with enthusiasm as he sat back, absent-mindedly tugging at the sea green bandanna around his neck – Hope's old bandanna and currently Tori Estheim's most prized possession. "We made you a buncha stuff!"

Hope smiled and ruffled the choppy cuts of pink hair atop Tori's head. "Like what?"

Six year-old Tori jumped off of the bed, sticking his tongue out at his little sister, who stuck her lip out at him in retaliation. Hope sat up and picked her up, setting four year-old Nora in his lap – her favorite place to sit at any given moment. She giggled and snuggled into him, content to let her brother do all the running around gathering the fruits of their labor.

"We saw a whole bunch of ties when Mom took us shopping today and she bought one," he began, body almost trembling with excitement as he held up a shopping bag. "We drew you a bunch of pictures too!"

Hope smiled and took the bag, peering in to see another lavishly decorated tie inside. Their designs hadn't deviated much, but instead of displaying their adoration, they'd penned their names. Tori had obviously written his himself, but the neatness of Nora's name suggesting her mother's heavy aid in the task.

"I can almost write my name, Daddy!" Nora bubbled, looking up at him through her platinum bangs. "Mama only had to move my hand." Her bright blue eyes narrowed as she looked over at Tori. "Tori can do it all by himself though. Mama made him sit in the corner 'cause he made fun of me.

Hope chuckled, kissing her forehead while Tori glowered. For being four years old, Nora was extremely aware of her surroundings and spoke English much better than other children her age. "Well, Tori's older," he began. "He's learned more." When Nora sighed in resignation, Hope continued. "Soon you'll be able to write your name by yourself, too, don't worry." He smiled at her. "Promise."

Nora giggled and grabbed his hands, clapping them in front of her. Tori jumped off the bed again and retrieved several pieces of paper from the dressing table.

"We drew these for you, too!" he explained, holding up several colorful works of art in the kids' favorite medium – crayons. They'd depicted their family in smiling faces in front of an impression of their house, New Palumpolum sunsets, chocobos, sheep, and full portraits of Hope, 'Happy Birthday' written on every masterpiece.

Though touched and impressed with their efforts, Hope couldn't help noticing the tie and briefcase making cameos in each of the drawings of him. Had those two things become so normal in their views of him that they merited appearances in his children's impressions of him? Was that an indication of him working too much?

"These are beautiful," he murmured, still managing a genuine smile despite his worries. "I think this is my best birthday present yet."

Tori and Nora grinned in satisfaction just before Lightning's voice drifted into the room.

"Dinner's ready, you three!"

"Come on," Hope said, standing and settling Nora on his hip. "Lets go eat."

"Now, let me think…was I the same when I woke up this morning?" Hope paused to glance at his children, both of whom had long fallen fast asleep. He looked back down at the storybook and located his final line.

"But if I'm not me, then who in the world am I?"

He let the sentence hang for a second or two before closing the book and setting it in its place on the bookshelf behind him. He allowed himself a few seconds to smile at Tori and Nora, who slumbered peacefully in their beds, before rising to tuck them both him.

"You do bedtime stories so much better than I do," Lightning said, smiling at Hope from her place on the bed when he came into their room. He plopped down beside her and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Don't worry, you do more than enough during the day to make up for it."

Lightning tangled her fingers into Hope's hair and met his lips with hers.

"Hope…there's something we need to talk about," she murmured, pulling away for air.

"Oh shit," Hope chuckled, brushing their noses together. "Am I in trouble?"

"Depends on how you look at it."

The seriousness in her voice caught him off guard, and Hope felt his body go rigid with apprehensive curiosity. "Is something wrong?" he asked quietly, urgently searching her eyes.

Lightning's smile reduced Hope to a grinning, lovestruck teenager in just a second. "Not at all. We just need to talk."

"But it's my birthday," Hope playfully whined, resting his head on her chest to look up at her like a kicked puppy. He and Lightning knew what he'd had in mind – his nocturnal gift from Lightning. She flicked his forehead, huffing.

"That's exactly why we have to talk."

Hope sighed. "Alright. What do we need to talk about?"

Though Lightning's killer straight face remained firmly in place, it was sorely betrayed by the excited sparkle in her eyes.

"Names."

Several seconds passed in silence after Lightning's last word. Hope blankly stared into her eyes before understanding practically placed a lightbulb over the mop of shimmering platinum atop his head, jaw dropping.

"You…you're…?"

Lightning laughed – legitimately laughed. "Hope, I've told you this twice before. You're allowed to say 'pregnant.'" Hope noticed with a bit of amusement that even she stumbled over the word in a way.

"Aren't I allowed to be speechless?" he asked, grinning as he pulled her up into a hug. "It's not every day I get a baby for my birthday!"

Lightning returned his hug, somehow managing to keep a lid on her urge to laugh at her husband's antics. "You get a _pending_ baby for your birthday." She pulled away and gestured at the graphic Hope hadn't noticed – a yellow traffic button over her stomach reading _"Daddy's Project: Under Construction." _

Hope chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. "I love you so much, Lightning," he whispered into her mouth.

"I love you too," Lightning replied with a heated nip at his lower lip. "You want your usual gift still? There are other ways to get the job done without putting the baby in danger – "

"Screw it," Hope laughed, hugging her with all the enthusiasm of a child. "You've already made me the happiest man in the world."

* * *

**I have no idea what people read to their kinds for bedtime stories anymore...so I just kinda...used whatever story Jack reads to Aaron in that one flash-forward in season 4 of Lost. XD -lazy-**

**And my cousin had Lightning's shirt when she was pregnant. Cutest damn thing ever. XD**


	7. Not Over Yet

**I feel like I kind of half-assed this one...wrote it all in one go while suffering from the flu and while listening to Madilyn Bailey's cover of Safe and Sound, originally by Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars. BEAUTIFUL song. Madilyn's cover brought tears to my eyes. XD**

**This is also inspired by () ()favourites/#/d5dg1gw (no spaces). **

**I also have my Twitter and Tumblr accounts set up! Details are in my profile. I'll post random stuff on Twitter and various things, including snippets and things, on my Tumblr. In case you're interested. ;)**

**Anyway, enjoy~! **

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Sweet relief flooded Lightning's chest as her companions began to settle in for their first night on Gran Pulse. Snow and Sazh had spent quite a while doing what they could to get Hope's morale back up following his battle with Alexander, but it was obvious that the root of the problem leading to his advanced brand remained buried beneath the boy's smile. Seeing him relax a bit was therapeutic in and of itself, and as his eyes drifted closed, his face illuminated by the flickering firelight, Lightning felt herself relax with him.

She couldn't help seeing herself in him; the way he buried his troubles until they festered and made violent reappearances which injured the ones he loved. It had happened countless times with Lightning and Serah – and every time was another day she wanted to forget.

Though Hope may have slept and brought the remaining four some relief, Lightning wouldn't be fooled. She had performed the same trick a hundred times, acting as though things were alright when the truth was that she could break at any given moment.

Out of the four Cocoon natives, she and Hope had formed the tightest bond, which was an advantage and a disadvantage all in one. She was able to detect when something was bothering her charge – but in turn, he could tell when something was bothering _her. _

And the little bastard was goddamn near irresistible. If she hadn't been through boot camps and battles before she was made a l'Cie, she would have completely crumbled under the raw innocence and cuteness Hope radiated.

Deep down, Lighting was sure that Hope was bound to be her downfall. She just knew it. Anyone who could so easily bypass the walls she'd put up and navigate her heart in just two weeks was dangerous. He was worth keeping an eye on – for the sake of not only HIS safety, but Lightning's.

At the very least, she was glad he was able to sleep. Her mind refused to let her body rest, regardless of the incessant begging it did. Who else would stand guard if she didn't? Snow could be counted on to fall asleep after just a few hours. Vanille would start talking to the chocobo chick and wake everyone up. Fang just complained. And Sazh…no one asked him to stand guard. He had a hard enough time during the day.

Lightning would never have dreamed of asking Hope to keep watch by himself. He acted tough – and in reality, he really was – but even Lightning got the chills after the fire died and the moonlight cast shadows throughout the canyon. Hope was almost good at masking his fear, but Lightning wasn't sure how he would handle it all by himself. And seeing how his brand had advanced so suddenly just hours before, she didn't want to find out.

It both bothered and amazed Lightning how composed Hope was during their travels. He shouldered the burden of leading them through Palumpolum after a rocky week-long flight through the Gapra Whitewood, never hesitating to dispose of a handful of lobos lunging at his throat. He never flinched when a behemoth sent a paw full of foot-long claws sweeping down at him, but trembled in terror when faced with just a single PSICOM soldier. More often than not, Lightning had to do away with military squads when one crossed paths with them – because Hope would freeze.

She never could get him to tell her why he was so afraid of them. It wasn't like he hadn't killed soldiers before. Sure, they were just as human as he was, but it had become clear that if they were going to save Cocoon rather than destroy it, as Dysley had said, it couldn't be done without bloodshed either way. Cocoon hated them, jumped at every opportunity to see them slaughtered. Murder was something that Hope would have to get used to, but Lightning couldn't bring herself to tell him to get over it because she doubted he ever would. Hope was still a child; death still a frightening, foreign thing. He had yet to accept his mother's passing, as made obvious by the murmuring of her name in his sleep and the handful of nightmares Lightning had woken him from.

Despite it all, Hope was really nothing more than a hapless child, tangled in an endless struggle for an ultimately short-lived survival.

And Lightning wanted to save him from that.

As she watched the sun dip into the horizon, she felt a light pressure on her side, followed swiftly by a flood of warmth and the tickling of fibers on her shoulder. She looked down to see Hope snuggled up against her, eyes closed and head resting on her shoulder. A blush tinted his cheeks light pink while his eyes fluttered open, shrouded by the thick black lashes.

"Um…" he began, swallowing. "Snow was snoring. Woke me up."

Lightning chuckled and turned her eyes back to the sunset. "You ought to try getting some sleep. You'll need it now that you have Alexander. Summoning an eidolon takes a lot of energy."

"I can't sleep with Snow sawing enough logs for all of us over there," Hope replied sullenly, leaning on her in what may have been a show of his decisiveness. "I'll just stay here."

"Fine." I wouldn't mind some company, anyway.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each watching the sun sink lower and lower, before Hope spoke up.

"I know I need to keep my cool," he whispered, "but…I'm still scared out of my mind."

Lightning sighed. "Hope, it's going to be alright. We're all scared, and we're all going to make it out of this alive – be it in crystal stasis or otherwise. We've been through this."

"It's just…hard to believe…I mean…it's easy enough to believe when things have been going well…but we're not home anymore. There's nowhere else to go unless we decide to take out Cocoon and – "

Lightning gently – but firmly – pushed Hope away from her and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look her right in the eyes.

"Hope, what are you REALLY afraid of?" she asked bluntly. Hope stared at her, emerald eyes wide as saucers before they filled with tears, fright, and embarrassment.

"I'm…I'm afraid of being left alone, Light," he whispered, looking down at his wringing hands. "I'm afraid of you dying…and me getting left here by myself…as a cie'th, or whatever…"

Lightning loosened her grip on his shoulders. "Then why did you suggest we leave you behind?"

Lightning felt her heart ache when tears fell onto Hope's capris.

"I…I told you…I didn't want you getting hurt…because of me," he replied, voice broken.

"…don't be stupid, Hope."

He looked back up at her in shock, the green in his eyes brighter as red tinged the white. "What…"

"I told you before that I wouldn't abandon you," Lightning half-heartedly snapped, fighting to keep the edge in her voice. "I didn't do it then, and I won't do it now. Not after we've both saved each other more times than I can count." Lightning sighed when her voice threatened to break. How the hell did Hope bring out the empathetic side of her so quickly? "Honestly, Hope…you really think I'd just walk away and let you die?"

Hope's eyes blazed. "You did the same thing for me once," he snapped. "Remember? In Palumpolum?" Lightning's heart stopped. "You told me to run, that you'd keep them busy. Don't tell me you didn't say that knowing that you'd die if you made good on that order."

"You had something bigger to live for than I did, Hope," Lightning shot back, eyes and voice void of emotion. "You needed to see your – "

"And I'll never see my dad again! Light, you were going to let yourself die for me! Why is it such a big deal if I try to return the favor? You have Serah to live for! You know she'll come back, Light! My mother's dead, my father's as good as dead, and I've got anywhere from an hour to two weeks to live! I'm…I'm doomed either way…" The anger in his voice subsided, his shoulders slumping forward. His head drooped, thick silver locks forming a curtain between himself and Lightning.

"Hope," Lightning breathed, reaching a hand toward him but stopping when he shied away. His shoulders trembled as fear tore him apart from the inside. Lightning wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him flush against herself, meriting a surprised gasp. He squirmed in her hold for a few seconds before apparently giving up and letting his full weight rest on her.

"Hope, you've got to stop this," Lightning whispered, absentmindedly threading strands of silver hair between her fingers. "You're going to push yourself to cie'th before the night's out at this rate." She felt moisture seeping through her blouse and bit her lip, groping for something – anything she could say to console him.

"I told you I wouldn't abandon you," she said while his arms shakily snaked around her waist. "I told you I'd keep you safe, too. That won't change, so don't worry. You'll be alright." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's not over yet. It won't be over until the last one of us dies – and trust me, none of us are going down that easily."

Hope turned his head sideways away from her for a breath of air, lungs quaking when he tried to obtain it through his nose. He coughed, but it came out as a sob, a sound that made even Lightning's heart ache. She rubbed his back ever so slightly, wishing there was anything she could just DO to ease his fears.

"Get some sleep, Hope. You need to relax."

Lightning's eyes widened when Hope's arms tightened around her. "Can I…can I stay with you? I feel safer with you…"

There couldn't have been much harm in the prospect. Everyone else was asleep, and Hope would probably end up back in his place by the fire at some point before sunrise. Lightning wrapped her arms around her charge and settled his head on her shoulder, leaning against a rock to watch the sun vanish below the horizon.

_Come morning light…you and I'll be safe and sound. It's not over yet, Hope. Not for you, and not for me. _


	8. Bad

**ARGH. This took forever DD: School's been kicking my ass. I'm still working on requests for people, and hopefully I'll be able to get those done and uploaded. :) I think all but one is at least half done...**

**Anyway, had a BALL at homecoming last weekend. Now that that's over, I'll get back to work~! :)**

* * *

49. BAD

A good night's sleep was something that had managed to elude Lightning Farron for years. Since her childhood, she'd been plagued by insomnia, a condition she'd never imagined would become useful – until she was made a l'Cie and didn't have _time _to sleep.

When she woke up one morning feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, she had a brief flash of uneasiness amidst her blissful morning grogginess. As she watched specks of dust dance in a beam of sunlight peeking through the curtains, she noticed that she was propped up on a tangled mess of the blankets on her bed and briefly wondered why her feet were closest to the wall as opposed to her head, as was her usual bedtime settlement. Any explanation was lost on her as she absentmindedly threaded locks of soft hair between her fingers.

That was when she realized that something was very, very wrong.

Lightning always slept alone.

_This is bad. _

It only took a once-over of the room to identify several things that, to say the least, weren't normal in her bedroom.

For starters – she was naked. Sleeping in the buff wasn't one of her kinks, and probably wouldn't ever be. Privacy didn't exactly exist in the battlefield, and in a years-long fit of self-redemption, her showerhead held the honor of being the closest thing to anyone seeing her outside her clothes since her last deployment.

Well, it _had_. And that brought her to next bedroom discrepancy.

Part one – her lewdly splayed legs. Part two…what seemed to be two sets of clothes scattered in various places on the bed and the floor. Part three…the mop of disheveled silver hair resting on her breasts, framed by her aforementioned legs.

Hands shaking, Lightning brushed a lock of silver away from the face of the person snuggling rather comfortably into every curve and contour of her body just to confirm her suspicions. First came a full, soft pink lower lip followed by a darker pink upper lip, the set slightly parted in slumber. Pitch black eyelashes interlocked and fluttered as he navigated through a dream.

The repercussions for anyone else in Hope's position would have been brutal. Despite the inevitably explosive anger boiling in her chest, Lightning's heart softened when Hope's arms tightened around her waist, mumbling something in his sleep. There was no reprimanding the innocence resting against her breasts, and Lightning knew that the now-sixteen year-old had officially stolen her heart.

Sixteen…oh, there was the guilt.

It didn't take much to see what had happened the night before. Twenty-three year old women didn't seem to make habits of just cuddling with sixteen-year old boys and just _happening_ to lose their clothes.

With the exception of Lightning, of course. Even though cuddling hadn't been on hers and Hope's agenda at _all _the night before.

The only thing Lightning was able to take comfort in was the fact that she hadn't directly initiated it. Hope had tagged along with Serah and Snow on one of their 'lets keep Lightning sane while she lives alone' visits and had stayed behind. They had talked for a while, watched a couple of movies, and the whole time, Lightning could tell something was different about her former charge. Something was nagging at him. He showed a slight variation of the barely-restrained impulsiveness she'd seen in him during their travel through the Gapra Whitewood and Palumpolum, but it was obvious that he wasn't itching to kill anyone. Itching to say something, maybe. Lightning had done her best to ignore his behavior, but couldn't shake the tension she felt growing between them.

The longer he stayed, the longer she ended up having to look at him. He'd lost most of the baby fat left over in his face, giving him a more masculine appearance despite his eyelashes remaining pitch black, as thick as Lightning's own, and even longer than hers. He'd grown several inches, and prided himself on being three-tenths of an inch taller than her. He'd developed some muscle here and there, most notably in his chest. His eyes, if anything, had only grown more beautiful with age, the green swirled with subtle touches of gold and still sparkling with innocence and naiveté even after watching so many die at his feet.

The longer he stayed, the more she wanted him.

The longer he stayed, the more she wanted to shoot herself for wanting him.

It wasn't long before everything came apart and Lightning tried to retreat to her bedroom for the night. When she told Hope that he ought to go home, he refused. A simple conversation evolved into a heated exchange, then to a whispered confession when Lightning backed herself into a corner, and from there into an entire night steeped in lust and unbridled passion, facades cracking away as each delved deeper into the other, searching for every secret they may have kept. Something in the back of Lightning's lust-hazed mind nagged at her to stop, but the overwhelming feeling of rightness refused to let her acquiesce. Hope was young. Hope was innocent. Lightning was a woman. Lightning was scarred. Nothing in their relationship was right anymore. One couldn't tell where the complexes began and ended, where Lightning stopped acting as an elder sister and became a mother, and where she left maternal instinct behind to focus her attentions on her needs as a lover. For anyone else, the tangles of one's overwhelming instinct to protect, another's smothering desire, starvation for family, and a shared desperation for something to hang onto in years to come all convening in the crying of names with perfect synergy at ecstacy's peak would have been unhealthy.

But for Lightning and Hope, it was perfect.

Until Lightning woke up the next morning and found her cloud of hopelessly intermingled emotions and desires had faded in sleep, leaving her faced with the stark reality of her situation.

She'd slept with Hope.

This was bad.

When Hope murmured a string of random words in his sleep, Lightning held her breath in hopes of prolonging his sleep. The more time she had to think her way through a solution, the better. Of course, she soon came to realize that there was no solving a problem she'd begged for only hours earlier.

Her time soon ran on short supply, and it wasn't long before Hope stirred himself into consciousness. Lightning felt her cheeks redden as he stretched, eyes closed and jaw appearing to unhinge itself as the boy released what was probably the largest yawn known to man. He turned himself onto his stomach, eyes still closed, and laid his head back down on Lightning's ample chest, his mussed silver hair coming to rest across her breasts.

Lightning watched him apprehensively, in the same manner one might observe a potentially threatening animal. She murmured words in her head like a mantra, willing power into them.

_Please don't wake up please don't wake up please don't wake up please don't wak – _

"Mmm…orning, Light…"

_Damnit. _

Lightning managed a smile and brushed a hand through his hair to get a better look at the entrancing jade orbs left hidden beneath the platinum shag. His eyes sparkled as they met hers, cobalt blue and shadowed by her eyelashes. A smile tugged one side of Hope's luscious, pale pink lips into a seductive, half-awake smirk as he assessed their arrangement, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

"How'd you sleep?" he slurred, eyes drifting shut for several seconds before reopening.

"Better than I have in a long time," Lightning replied truthfully.

Hope stared lazily into her eyes for a few seconds in silence.

"Then why do you look so guilty?"

Lightning bristled. "Why would I be guilty?"

Hope huffed, his warm breath raising excited goosebumps on Lightning's skin. "It's written all over your face, Light. Quit trying to cover for yourself," he murmured. Lightning felt a glower creep into her eyes.

"Forgive me, but women – especially women soldiers – don't usually make a habit of engaging in the things we did last night," she grumbled, staring holes into the pale blue wall behind Hope. "At least not with minor _boys._" She looked back at him when he touched her cheek.

"If you're gonna regret it…I'll just go," he murmured, a sad smile taking root in his features. Lightning watched in paralyzing confusion as he moved away from her, the muscles in his porcelain-skinned back cording and smoothing back out as he stretched. He moved to grab the boxers hanging on the bedpost, but Lightning grabbed his arm.

"Li – Mmph!"

Before he could get her name out, Lightning had pulled Hope back to herself, smothering his words with her lips. Though initially frozen in surprise, Hope soon melted into her, weaving his fingers into her hair and shyly dipping his tongue between her lips. Lightning acquiesced and allowed him to do most of the work, egging him on with a strategic, airy moan every so often.

Hope pulled away for air, cheeks flushed red and eyes half-lidded. He smiled when he took in Lightning's matching expression.

"So was it really that bad?" he murmured, leaning down to nip at her neck. "That sinful?" He bestowed another mark on her neck before kissing it. "That black?"

Lightning tilted her head back, eyes closed as she reveled in him. "Yes," she murmured. "But I'd rather sin and bask in ecstasy like this instead of not having done this at all."

Hope chuckled. "I thought you were more of a good girl than that, Light."

She peered up at him through barely-open eyes, a smirk turning up one corner of her mouth.

"A mistake you won't make twice."


	9. Unstoppable

**Ohhhh my god. Finally. xD I know it's short, but I really, really wanted to make up for disappearing for so long...so I finished this up last night to upload today. **

**I feel like I might be able to expound a little more on this drabble/whatever this is sometime in the future, but for now...enjoy. **

**...and please don't shoot me for the shortness q.q 333**

**I was inspired by "What If" by Safetysuit. **

* * *

_What if what I want makes you sad at me? Is it all my fault, or can I fix it, please?_

_Because you know I'm always all for you…_

There were many ways Hope justified his definite interest in Lightning. Snow had told him they were all bullshit and he knew it, but when push came to shove, Hope knew he couldn't accept the truth behind his feelings, and the object of his affection probably wouldn't have been too pleased to know that she'd attracted a boy of a scant fourteen years and a posh, sheltered childhood. Never the twain would meet, and Hope knew it.

So, with the fate of his feelings tucked safely away in the deepening alcoves of his heart, Hope had been left to theorize reasons why they simply refused to fade away. He knew that crushes didn't last forever, but the lack of infatuation he felt harassed him just as much as Snow did, reminding him over and over that there was more to his interest. Maybe he saw Lightning as a stand-in for his mother. The prospect was plausible until a certain point, taking into account Hope's partial reliance on her, the way he quickly grew strong when in battle with her, and how his fears diminished after speaking with her. She seemed rather fond of him in her own way, teaching him to defend himself and survive while simultaneously offering him the trace amounts of comfort she could. She tried.

The more time that passed, however, Hope began to notice that the emotions he'd buried hadn't faded away – in fact, if they'd done anything, they'd multiplied a hundredfold in the recesses of Hope's heart; in turn, so had the shame.

Hope's mother had taught him that no one could possibly expect him to control his feelings, whether they concerned people, places, politics, or anything else the world might have imposed. However, she informed him that he _could _control the actions he took as a result of his aforementioned feelings or opinions. For instance, if Hope's anger toward his father ever evolved into hatred – which ultimately, it did rather often – Hope had the choice to either lash out at his father or blow off steam through journaling or talking to his mother.

Hope was quick to apply his mother's advice to his feelings concerning Lightning, and offered himself an ultimatum.

He could expose his affection for her and risk damaging the relationship they'd already established, or he could continue hiding them and let his unrequited love live and die in silence.

He knew he wanted to tell her. Hope wanted Lightning, her love, her attention, and everything else that was Lightning. But how could she, a soldier of twenty-one, ever fall in love with a weakling of a fourteen year-old? Hope could only imagine the look on her face; how the shock would mingle with disappointment and sadness would surge through the crystalline cerulean orbs he loved so much.

She would be so disappointed with him, and the thought of letting Lightning down was enough to nearly kill Hope's feelings for her.

Maybe she would let him fix it afterward.

After all, she already knew that he was always all for her.


End file.
